The rocks in my garden, with more passion to hide their age than a middle age woman, looked at me and taunted me; "You will never know how old I am."
I look back at the rocks and say; "Keep your secrets, your beauty doesn't change. In fact, your unknown age adds to the treasure of who you are."
And the rocks look back at me with a quizzical grin, "If only you really knew how old we were. We would have a higher place of honour in your home. But you don't know, so here we lay, surrounded by the dirt and wild pansies."
I look back at the rocks with tears in my eyes. "You don't understand... You rest in the most treasured place in my home. You rest in my garden, where the evidence lies that life is eternal. For every year those pansies die, and every following year they grow again. You, my friends, have a front row seat to the resurrection."
Ruby Neumann: February 24, 2023
Today's reflection is not a strange reflection to me. If I were to go into a field and see a rock and see a watch... Would I deduce that both needed a maker? Maybe all I would do is take them both home because I could find a better place for them both to dwell than in a field. The watch has no use in a field, and the rock may damage the equipment that comes later to tend to that field. I don't even think that I would spend much time wondering. That is the beauty of living more in the moment.
I understand the value of tracing my steps into the past to get the stories that are longing to be told. But what of those stories that will forever be hidden from me. Like the stories of the rocks in my garden. I guess that is why I collect rocks and give them that honoured place that surrounds my home. I almost feel protected knowing they are out there.
To make those rocks the reason I go to war over their story, seems ludicrous to me. Maybe to know everything about their story would remove their magnificence. Maybe it's the unknowingness of their story that makes them so special and draws me to them. I'm not a geologist. I don't know their names or their labels. I only admire their beauty and bring them home to adorn my garden and share holy space with the wild pansies.
